Risky Lengths
by PoolstripeTheCat
Summary: Amberkit is the runt of her litter and treated like mouse dung, but she strives to become the best she can be. But fate has a surprise for her, and no one, not even StarClan, knows why.
1. Chapter 1

Amberkit's eyes brimmed with laughter. "Tell another one, Leafwhisker," she asked her grandmother. Leafwhisker was telling Amberkit and her sisters, Bluekit and Ashkit, some funny stories about the battles of WhiteClan, until a cranky-looking tortoiseshell cat with clouded eyes came up. "Leafie, stop filling their minds with such nonsense," He snapped. Amberkit begged her grandmother to hold her tongue, but to no use, alas.

"Well, they're _my_ grandkits! You're just cranky because Finchkit's cooped up in the med's den with whitecough!" Leafwhisker snapped back. The old tom smiled at his glaring companion. "Ah, just like when you were a warrior. Feisty one, she was," Lizardtail recalled. "We were sent out on patrols with each other all the time, until that mate of hers died in battle and she went silent like a rock. Glad to see that's back." Lizardtail eased himself onto his side and closed in eyes in the new-leaf sun. Leafwhisker grinned smugly and cuffed his ear. "Your age catching up to you, I see?" She purred, and Lizardfang lay there, smiling. "Let's go, guys, or else they'll start sharing tongues again." Bluekit muttered, and they raced to the brambles for any stray balls of moss. Amberkit felt no need to play with a silly moss ball, so she went to see her mother.

Lizardtail and Leafwhisker were, although, not mates, but yet very fond companions due to them being the only elders of WhiteClan. "Hello, Brightpetal," Amberkit called to her mother. She purred in affectionate greeting to her kit. "Hello, Amberkit. Why aren't you playing with Bluekit and Ashkit? Did they make you go away?" Her mother fretted. Bluekit and Ashkit have held the fact that Amberkit was the runt of the litter against her before, but they stopped. "No," Amberkit meowed. "Good." Her mother's tension evaporated and she groomed Amberkit's wild burnt orange fur. A rush of affection towards her mother escaped in a purr, and she curled up in peace.

Hours later, Heavyclaw, the deputy, burst in from patrol, his blue eyes bewildered and his snow-white fur tangled and oozing crimson liquid. Amberkit never saw anything like it, except when she heard about it in Leafwhisker's stories. "Quick! Form a barrier, WhiteClan is under attack!"


	2. Two

Two

Leafwhisker gasped; Lizardtail huddled close. The kits ran to the safety of their mother only to find the queen's eyes fixed with such a sharp determination it scared Amberkit. "Kits, stay here. I'm joining battle," Brightpetal had exclaimed. Amberkit was astonished. Her sisters huddled in the nursery with the other kits, their eyes frantic.

"No! Please! You've only been in here three moons after our birth, you'll die!" Amberkit, though the smallest, was the smartest, and her knowledge stretched far beyond her age. "Then I'll die protecting my clan," Brightpetal said, but her defiance couldn't hide the doubt clouding her mind. She bit the rim of her lip with sharp teeth, and sighed. She gave each of her kits a quick lick. "I love you. All of you." And she ran off.

….

Dark clouds began to swarm the sky, heavy with raindrops, yet the battle beneath the towering trees roared on. The cats battled with such fury, darting and scampering with expertise across the wide meadow; the few tree's limbs stretched out and created a thick green canopy, protecting the battle from prying eyes. Brightpetal surged forwards to help her best friend, Littlewhisker, a petite calico. Littlewhisker was fighting a huge black tom with a white muzzle and paws. Brightpetal recognized him as the deputy of FireClan. "Here to protect your _kit?_" Jettail sneered.

Brightpetal's breath hitched at the word "kit", and that was when Jettail took the time to pin her down. Littlewhisker lay on the floor, blood oozing out of her shoulders. Brightpetal snarled, and raked his underbelly, but his thick fur was like rubber. Jettail's wide mouth opened, revealing a drooling cave of razor sharp teeth. Brightpetal closed her eyes and they brimmed with sadness. She would not see her kits grow into warriors. She would not see them have kits. She wouldn't lay under the stars in the elders den with her mate, Blackfoot.

And then there was black.


End file.
